Slam poetry

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On Girls Lending Pens

By Taylor Mali

I walked into the classroom and straight to my chair,
But when I reached for my pen, it just wasn’t there!
I had no pen! or crayon! or pencil!
I was stuck before class without a writing utensil.

I could have asked the teacher (if I had dared,)
But I knew she would have said, “You’re unprepared!”
So to be diplomatic and avoid the fight
I quickly turned to the girl on my right,

Do you possibly have a pen I could borrow?
I’ll use it today and have it back by tomorrow.
“Oh! Furshur! What kind? I’ve got plenty.”
And she turned around with a handful of twenty.

I really don’t care what color or style,
I’ll take the fountain pen, I said with a smile.
“Oh, you don’t want that one. It comes out all ugly.
And it’s made of pure gold,” she said to me smugly.

Then how bout the blue?
“No, that one hops.”

Okay, maybe the green?

“Comes out in glops.”

Black?

“I’m afraid it’s having trouble connecting.”

Red?

“I’ll need it if we do any in-class correcting.”
Look, I said, my voice filling with fear,

Just gimme a pen before the teacher gets here!


“But this one always comes out in tons,
The yellow one skips and the purple one runs.
When the brown one dries, it looks real icky,
And the orange one’s covered with something sticky.
This one’s for emergencies (in case I get confused)
‘cause it’s clean and it’s fresh and it’s never been used.
I keep this one for quizzes ‘cause it brings good luck,
And the ballpoint’s splotchy and the cap is stuck.
This one’s empty, with the silver band,
And the felt-tip will leak all over your hand.
This one’s cracked, and that’s gone berserk!
And that would be perfect but it doesn’t work.
But here! Take this one! This one’s fine!
Oh wait…I’m sorry, this one’s mine.”
I think she went on but I couldn’t have cared.
I decided it was better to go unprepared.

The Taylor Mali poem I chose is "On girls lending pens". I chose this poem because i find it much more unique than others because it has rhyme and rhythm every line, all the way to the end. The feeling is much less serious also having a good humourous touch to it that pulled me in. I think the theme or message being sent through this poem is to always be prepared and you will have much less trouble. Some examples of this is the verses"I could have asked the teacher (if I had dared,) But I knew she would have said, “You’re unprepared!” So to be diplomatic and avoid the fight"and how he had to go through the trouble of trying to borrow from the girl next to him,which was also a waste of time with no result. I've spotted two poetic devices only, one of which is as mentioned earlier is rhythm and rhyme, this poetic device is the main one in this poem with it being in almost all of the verses. Here are some examples:
“But this one always comes out in tons,
The yellow one skips and the purple one runs.
When the brown one dries, it looks real icky,
And the orange one’s covered with something sticky.
This one’s for emergencies (in case I get confused)
‘cause it’s clean and it’s fresh and it’s never been used.
I keep this one for quizzes ‘cause it brings good luck,
And the ballpoint’s splotchy and the cap is stuck.
This one’s empty, with the silver band,
And the felt-tip will leak all over your hand.
This one’s cracked, and that’s gone berserk!
And that would be perfect but it doesn’t work.
But here! Take this one! This one’s fine!
Oh wait…I’m sorry, this one’s mine.”
I think she went on but I couldn’t have cared.
I decided it was better to go unprepared.

The other poetic device i have found in this poem is irony, the irony of this poem is the fact that she has twenty pens but none of them are good enough to lend to Taylor. This poem is my favorite of Taylor mali's as i can relate to being unprepared and both ends of the lending and borrowing ordeal, also i think this is one of those poems that any body can relate, understand and enjoy.

Good use of examples to support your points.
30/36


My slam poetry

I Fear

The Fears that engulf me every day are not one, or two but countless,
Every day, every moment, the feeling of helplessness.
I fear the structures that may topple atop me,
the ground that may crumble beneath me.
My fright increases with fear of great height,
or the thought of failures during mid flight.
Sailing on seas of tragic deaths,
only hoping I won't sink to the depths.
All the dark figures chasing me through dreams,
each time waking up to my silent screams.
Paralyzed by the demons in my sleep,
my parents would wake up to my weep.
Completing the tasks i was appointed,
continuously fearing that they would be disappointed.
I fear to live a life full of regret,
left only with memories i wish to forget.
I fear the friends that have pretended,
maybe even the lost ones that could have been prevented.
I wait in fear for that one tragic event,
knowing it would leave me in self torment.
I fear the day that i would turn to old bone,
and the moment i would dive into the unknown.
I fear to think more, of my worry and fear,
I tried so hard to make them disappear.
but year on year they would reappear.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,
nothing but fear, at my side.
Every day, every moment, my spirit will sear,
I can feel my mental death coming near,
for,I fear.